Sorry for the hiatus. Or has Cocreator’s New Blog become a weekly? No, I didn’t give it up for lent. But I have been busy. The income taxes are paid. At least the personal ones that I’m (or more truthfully my STRAW MAN is) responsible for. The first half rent is paid. I’ve locked in a current 40,000 US Dollar loss. Though it doesn’t look that way on my income taxes. For the third year in a row. It will more than make up for any profits I’ve been pushing forward. Of course I won’t have the money to pay the income taxes if I don’t keep pushing it forward.

I can tell that the banks are not going to help out. Though they are glad to see those pre paid costs on the balance sheet they won’t be easy to get along with if the crop growing sector can’t return a profit for a couple more years. The loan officer couldn’t believe the bleeding balance sheet this year. He kept looking around to find what he’d done wrong on the figures. All I could do was point out that I saw this coming three years ago. I got the feeling after I had left that my visit had really shaken the poor farmer/loan officer’s confidence along with some of his convictions. I was one of his worry free accounts.

It makes no difference to me. When they shut me off I’ll quit farming. I’m pretty sure this is where I came into this movie. When I started every farmer was going broke. Many farmers had already been shut off and sold out. It’s interesting to see what was happening before I had come around that corner 32 years ago. All we’ll need is rising interest rates. If we are able to get the zero percent interest rates the zombie banks are getting we can continue in a similar zombie fashion. They could artificially prop up the value of land and rents in the same way houses and stocks are currently being artificially propped up.

What have we given up? We’re all suppose to give up something. They call this the lenten season. (Lent In Season) So the money’s been lent into creation. Yes, I’m a cocreator there also. As are all who borrow money into creation. Borrowing money is how it’s created in a reserve banking system. A system where the banks only have to keep a small reserve of their capital base on hand and are allowed to loan out (aka create) many times as much as they have on deposit. That’s why runs on banks can’t be tolerated, the money (beyond the tiny reserve) simply isn’t there. It’s also why the debt can’t be written down or paid off without causing severe deflation of the money supply. It’s a house of cards from the get go. Built on a sand foundation. (Silica?) (Fracking?)

Add up all the income. Subtract out the costs. Multiply by what they take. Divide you from your loss. How taxing is that? It should only take the average taxpayer a minimal amount of time to comply with the confiscation. But then the average taxpayer has a W-2 to attach to the EZ form and if they were fool enough to let the crooks take it out of their paychecks then plead with the government to please return a small portion. That same average payer has until April 15th to get it back without losing more of it to late fees and penalties.

If you are not the average taxpayer or if you don’t send in quarterly demands, they want you to cough it up in February. Right before the March 1 deadline to pay first half’s cash rent on land. Tax master above landlord. So (I would suppose) the prudent landlord pays quarterly and low-balls the estimate so they can use the first half’s rent to pay the balloon payment due in April on the fifteenth that evens up the year of quarterly payments. With what’s left after the April Fool’s deadline for property taxes. So I pay my taxes in February then March 1st I pay the rent that pays everybody else’s taxes. Now who’s the fool?

Some friends and I were gathered on a warm November night
Up in the sky and pulsing by was an exquisite sight
A little glimpse that can convince of His majestic might
The waves of glowing power from Earth’s warm magnetic light

The moths were circling slower finding nowhere safe to lite
Half of the swarm you’d not discern it’d grown to such a height
They’d flutter out and round about on never ending flight
In downward flowing showers of the warm magnetic light

No longer on our first date still we tried to get it right
Instead of growing closer we were heading t’ward a fight
Using the rising passion she deftly offered a sleight
Into the towing flower of her warm magnetic light